Tuesday, 31 March 2015

The
early section of the PCT is relatively low altitude starting at 2915 ft, rising
quite gradually to a peak of about 9000ft until one reaches the High
Sierra where altitudes exceed13000ft in one or two places. It is
possible to take a detour to higher ground if certain mountain summits
appeal to you, but the highest actual trail point is Forrester Pass at
13180ft. Inconveniently, this is about 29ft over the typical limit for
most travel insurers, and one I called told me I'd have to insure myself
for exceeding that altitude, over the duration of the whole trip, even
though I'll probably be over the pass in half an hour and back under the
limit.

The desert, is also the habitat of crotalus atrox,
or the Western Diamondback Rattlesnake. Its not the only rattler
though - there are many other varieties and most of them live in
abundance here. You may walk a week without seeing or hearing one, but
then see five in a hundred yards. They are potentially deadly
poisonous, and can bite multiple times and lightening fast in a second
or two. I say potentially as about 7,000 - 8,000 people are bitten per
year in the USA, but fatalities number in the single digits. The good
thing about them is they are not stupid, and when some lumbering hulk of
a hiker comes barreling down the trail towards them, they know he is 50
times their size and could kill them, and immediately start warning of
their presence with the rattling-tail gag. This is a good thing -
no-one ever died from hearing a rattlesnake. so as long as you stay
alert, don't step over something where you can't see the other side,
poke your hand into bushes or under rocks and so on, you will be highly
unlikely to get too close to one, and therefore never get bitten. Few
rattlesnakes exceed 4-5ft, and can strike about half their body length,
so if you walk six or seven feet round the snake, its not going to reach
you even if it did try to strike.

Occasionally,
a lazy or stubborn one might sit in the middle of a path,refusing to
move. If lobbing rocks at it doesn't see it off, you may have go round
it, if that's safe. Its pretty stupid to muck around with such a snake
though, so best not to go poking it with a hiking pole or what have you.
Most snake bites happen because people are interfering with the snake
or trying to handle it - so the trick is, don't. If I met a snake in a
confined gully, I would be only too happy to take a short reverse detour
if possible, or settle down for a cuppa a few yards back until it
buggered off. What I wouldn't do is piss it off.

Other
hazards include scorpions, which of course have a stiong on their
articulated tail - apparently, the ones with big claws are generally not
very venonmous, whereas the ones with little feeble claws tend to be
VERY venomous. Scorpions are nocturnal, so my plan is to keep my shoes
and socks inside my tent when I remove them, and then I know there ain't
any hitchhikers to shake out next morning. Even the most venomous
scorpions rarely cause fatality to a fit person, but the sting is
ghastly and painful from most of then, so best avoided.

The
bigger animals to be aware of are bears, black bears, (which are not
always black - sometimes brown). They are powerful, physically big
animals, but seldon aggressive, and more likely to hurtle away at pace
if you encounter one. A juvenile might be curious and follow a hiker
hoping for food, but my feeling about bears is I will be pleased and
excited to see one. It would be foolish to assume that there is no
danger from bears though, and in some sections of the hike, especially
the sierra there are places where bears have become familiar with humans
and may come close, so close control of food storage is required to
reduce their dependency on being near humans - this has become such a
problem that bear-proof canisters are mandatory in places. In parts of
Canada and certainly Alaska, the Grizzly bear (or what Native Americans
called the "real bear") is common. These buggers are a whole different
kettle of fish and I would not want to meet one of those much.

Then
there are Mountains lions, also known as cougars, or puma. These big
cats are common through the whole of North and South America. They are
not as big as African Lions, being slightly smaller than a Jaguar or
Panther, but still capable of killing a man. In fact there are rising
numbers of attacks in the last two decades with some 20 deaths or so,
which is twice as many as in the previous century. This is because of
rising numbers of human visitors to their territories, although nearly
two thirds of these fatalities were children. On the whole it is
unlikely that you will be attacked by a mountain lions, as they usually
don't recognise humans as prey, but a cornered or very hungry cat might
be more aggressive. I really hope I get to see one, but they do say you
are a hundred times more likely to be seen by one, than see one
yourself.

I'm
saving the worst till last obviously. Mosquitoes. Little bastards.
Like tiny single engined aircraft whining around looking for someone to
bite. In the summer in the Sierra, where water is everywhere, so are
the mozzies, so its long pants, long sleeves, head net and bug
repellent, and maybe you'll get away with out too many bites. But, you
WILL get bitten and sometimes they are as thick in the air as smoke.
I'd sooner meet a pack of wolves.

Presuming
one is not inconvenienced by any of these creatures, the walking will
be tough, depending on how fast or slow you take the journey. The thing
is, you can't be too slow because of the weather.

Most
people start in mid to late April, and indeed there is a big 2 day
kick-off party about 20 miles up the trail at the end of April. Start
any sooner than this and you risk getting to the Sierra Nevada while
there's still too much Nevada going on - snow. And it can be many feet
of it. Too late, and the desert will be getting hot and dry, the melt
water in the creeks in the Sierra will be raging torrents, and you may
not get top the end of the trail before the snow starts falling for next
year in Washington. The journey takes most comleters about 5 months.
My plan is to do it in four and a half, starting from Campo on April
18th and hopefully crossing into Canada on or before 31st August. I will
fly back from Seattle on September 2nd.

If
I make it, and that is far from being a gimme, as I am fat, fifty one
and have a bad left knee, I will almost certainly lose a significant
amount of body weight. Some people lose a third of it or more. I
consider this a plus, but any thru-hiker knows that their relationship
with the trail largely boils down to food. Its common for resupply days
to be about obsessive laundering, blogs, restocking the food for the
next week's walking, and as many meals in town as its possible to cram
in....three breakfasts, two lunches, maybe a couple of dinners. Its
basically impossible to carry enough calories to replace what's being
burned off, so resupply days are very much about gorging to compensate.

Monday, 30 March 2015

I'm always moaning on about the PCT and how marvelous it is, but it just occurred to me, that not everyone knows what its about or where it is! Well, here's a picture of it. You see that thin red line meandering up the west coast of the USA? that's it; that's the PCT. A strip of dirt two feet wide and about 2660 miles long. That's some path. Its generally attempted as a northbound trip, but annoyingly, its not always heading north, and even sometimes goes quite seriously south.

It starts at the Mexican border near Campo, a border control settlement, and winds up through California, Oregon and finally Washington; terminating at the Canadian border. Lack of roads at the northern terminus means most hikers walk on another 8 miles to Manning park in Canada, and get a bus to civilization to return home. As well as being long, there's a lot of up-ness and down-ness, about 498,000ft of each, which is the equivalent of ascending and descending Mt Everest (from sea level) over 17 times. That is serious.

So, it IS a long old path, but its hard going in places for more reasons than distance. For example, the first 500 mile section is in the Mojave desert, which is a scrubby desert, rather than the sand-dune kind of thing you might imagine when you think of the Sahara. But that doesn't mean its not hot - it can be roasting and carrying enough water to get from A to B is a major undertaking. Most people need about 5l of water a day to be reasonably well hydrated, but that varies from person to person a little. You really don't want to get dehydrated in the desert heat - not just because you feel thirsty, but because you will eventually inhibit the body's ability to sweat and once that stops, you are in serious risk of heat-stroke where the body cannot shed heat fast enough, and overheats, possibly fatally. Planning your water consumption and sources is therefore very important. Its not a completely dry desert, and there are creeks and springs in places, often dry by the middle of summer, but in April, potentially still viable water sources, and on top of that, settlements, cattle troughs and sometimes water caches left by volunteers. Water caches are coming into disrepute lately because of the trash they cause. They can be a godsend of course, but I wonder if one ought to try not to expect them, and/or plan around them, simply because they are not obliged to be there and dependency on them becomes risky. On the other hand, if I happen on one, will I fill up with water? You bet your skinny, bone-dry ass I will.